


pretend you didn't hear (i know you already know that)

by junplum



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Rare Pairings, Slow Burn, barista!jihoon, boy meets boy and suffers sorry jun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 14:38:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5378765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junplum/pseuds/junplum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jun makes sure his mornings are perfect. Unfortunately, Petite Pastel barista guy who looks at him like Jun's the greatest idiot he's ever met is something that he definitely didn't plan for.</p><p>Or, that one junhoon coffeeshop au where Jun's a confused usual trying to get his coffee and Jihoon just likes to watch him squirm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	pretend you didn't hear (i know you already know that)

**Author's Note:**

> COVERS FACE WITH HANDS JUNHOON I DONT EVEN KNOW. I can't believe my first fanfic in Seventeen or /ever/ is for these two. I blame [Nessa](http://boysbejunhui.tumblr.com) for absolutely everything. Thank you Yichen for beta-ing, ilu even though you won't touch a hair of seventeen bc of ot12 exo(dus). ty especially for putting up with me being overwhelmed about Jun every single day of my life now.
> 
> Inspiration: that one time Jun hugged Woozi in Hong Kong and Woozi glared at him before breaking out into a laugh, while Jun was too busy hiding behind Minghao and Jeonghan. And also the time I managed to knock over my entire drink at Starbucks. :~)

Jun’s morning never changes. He wakes up at 5:50 am and lays in bed, eyes open, until his alarm rings ten minutes later, and then he's up, rolling out the exercise mat kept by the foot of his bed, jumping and running in place to get his limbs loose and blood pumping. When he's finished warming up with lunges and squats, he moves on to kicks. Inside, outside, front stretch, out stretch - the same as yesterday or three Tuesdays ago. Half an hour of this and a cool down stretch later, he's in the shower, exercise mat left open to dry. In five minutes he's out and dressed, drying his hair vigorously, then brushes his teeth and pats on the lotion he went out and bought after his mom had fussed over the dry patches on his skin the last time he'd visited home. His usual toast is finished neatly, the dish washed and dried shortly. There's only the quiet clinking of plates and rustling of clothes; his roommates are all either in someone else's bed or hungover on another house's couch. Jun's honed his routine down to practically every minute and detail, including when to leave his apartment and how fast he should walk so he can make it to the bus stop exactly five minutes beforehand.

This morning is no exception. In five minutes he’s nodding to the bus driver and sitting in his window seat in the back, taking in the glass buildings that are bouncing sunlight back into his eyes, the businessmen and women striding past students in hoodies trudging to class. In fifteen minutes, he's arrived at his stop and is nodding again to the driver as he exits. Walking leisurely now, for his first lecture doesn’t start until 9 am, Jun always makes it a point to stop inside Seventeen Cafe, his usual haunt ever since Minghao had started working there in their freshmen year. Over time, he’s ended up befriending all the baristas, made easier by already being close with Minghao, as well as saying quiet good mornings to the other usuals. This morning however, is a little different. Instead of Mingyu's recently-dyed shade of light blue, Jun spots a pale pink head of hair behind the counter.

Looking back on this in the future, Jun can pinpoint this exact moment as when his precious routine grinded to a halt and was thrown out of the window. He _really_ should have known better. Alas, this Jun is still blissfully unaware.

Jun frowns a little. No one had told him they'd hired a new person. He can't even see any more of them besides their hair, a peek of pink over a customer's shoulder. When he does finally manage to move to the front of the line, his first impression of the new barista is that he's so...  _small_.He looks about as tall as some of the girls in his classes, not more than 5'3, 5’4 in sneakers. Not to mention the pink hair. Jun's never seen that sort of pastel look on a guy before, but it surprisingly suits the barista, so much so that Jun's staring at him and reading his name-tag. _Jihoon_. Tiny, cotton candy hair Jihoon who's also now scowling and narrowing his eyes at him as he waits for Jun to reply back to his question. Shit. 

"Sorry, I didn't catch what you said." Jun blinks and smiles sheepishly at the guy, but just gets a deeper tuck of the mouth corners downwards in return. 

Jihoon repeats his question, slowly and enunciating his syllables. "What would you like to have today?" 

"Um - "

The thing is, Jun's been coming to this place like clockwork ever since Minghao started working there, to the point where the barista on duty would start making his order as soon as they saw him walking in. He doesn’t think he’s actually _said_ his order out loud for months. Jihoon's the only new face he's seen since Chan, an enthusiastic freshman who’s memorable for once playing Michael Jackson songs for a straight hour, started at the beginning of the semester, and it's left him in a bit of a spin. At least Chan had been mentioned to him beforehand. But now the new barista is standing in front of him, still glaring and waiting for him.

Jihoon leans across the counter and drums his fingers. "Hey, are you planning to keep standing there or are you going to order any time soon?" 

That snaps Jun out of his reverie. Mentally shaking his surprise off, he rattles off his usual.

"A medium vanilla latte please, no foam." 

Quick scratches on cardboard. "Here or to go?" 

It’s 8:30 am. Jun's usually making his way to the lecture hall by this time, but when he opens his mouth, a "for here" slips out. Jihoon's been writing down his order and punching it in on the cash register the whole time, not once looking back at Jun. He states the price to Jun and swipes his card, then hands it back to him and says the coffee will be ready soon.

It's all brusque, impersonal, quick, not at all like what Jun’s used to from the chatty, bumbling Mingyu or endearing Chan. For some reason, he finds that he’s not particularly offended by it. Jun’s always been inclined to throw caution to the wind when his curiosity is piqued. At least he has enough self-awareness to know it's probably going to end up biting himself in the ass. Settling down at the table he uses every night for homework, he waits. It's not long before a pair of feet step into his peripheral. 

"Here. Sorry I forgot to ask for your name, it's my first day here." 

 _'I know'_   Jun thinks.

He looks up, and then straight on. Jihoon's standing next to his table, placing his coffee down with small, thin but well-defined hands. 钢琴手, his mom would've called them, and then look pointedly at her own son’s crooked, wushu-calloused fingers. No amount of piano-playing as a child ever changed that. Jun, however, thinks that the guy’s pale fingers would be right at home dancing over piano keys, as confident and nimble-looking as the rest of his appearance.

Jesus. Since when did Jun start rhapsodizing about a stranger's fucking _hands_ of all things in the middle of a conversation?

"Thank you, it's fine. I'm Jun." He shoots a quick smile at Jihoon who has the store's apron tied neatly around his waist. It looks impeccably crisp, a sharp contrast to how stained and wrinkled it gets when Mingyu has it on for even a minute. The brown apron, combined with his light pink hair, conjures up an ice cream cone in Jun's mind. All that Jihoon's missing is a cherry on top. He definitely doesn't focus on how Jihoon's practically eye-level with him even while Jun’s sitting down, or how his apron ends past his knees when the same one on Mingyu barely hits his mid-thigh.

At least Jihoon doesn't look irritated anymore. Jun's starting to suspect it might just be his general nature to everyone. Or he's one hell of a poker player, considering how Jun probably gave him more cause for irritation this morning than most would. He winces internally at that.

Hearing Jun's voice, Jihoon glances at him, flicks his eyes over him once, and nods in acknowledgment. He strides back behind the counter, and their little exchange is over like that. Inexplicably, it makes him want to pout a little. (He doesn't, of course. He still has a little bit of reputation left to save in front of Jihoon).

Jun raises the latte to his lips, but forgets that Jihoon's the one who made it, not one of his familiar baristas who deliberately let his lattes cool a little before handing them to him. The realization doesn't hit him until the liquid burns his mouth.

"Fu- !"

Jun manages to self-censor himself, but just barely, banging his knee _hard_ against the table in the meantime. God, this is what he gets when he tries to change his routine. Jun can feel the sets of eyes inside the shop swiveling into his direction. He knew he should have been on his toes ever since he saw that pastel hair. 

Speaking of whom that pastel hair belongs to, Jun picks that exact moment to look up to the cash register where Jihoon has returned to. A Jihoon who’s seen the entire spectacle of Jun making a fool of himself, and a Jihoon who’s now  _smiling_ at him, clearly bemused. Jun can feel the very tips of his ears starting to turn red, and it wasn't from his burnt mouth or already-bruising leg.

Coughing to conceal his lost composure, Jun gets up, the latte that betrayed him abandoned, and makes for the exit as quickly as he can without running so that nothing worse could possibly happen in what's quickly shaping up to be the most disastrous morning he's had since his first day as a wide-eyed freshman. In his haste to escape with whatever shreds of dignity he has left, Jun doesn’t notice the wallet that he'd placed on the table right before Jihoon had set down his coffee.

\--

Jihoon raises his eyebrows after his customer leaves in a whirlwind. Going over to the table to pick up the latte, his lips quirk up when he sees the forgotten wallet. He flips to the inside. It's bare except for two cards, a debit and credit, and the guy's student ID. WEN JUNHUI, it states, senior at their university.

Apparently, Wen Junhui is also one of those rare people who manage to look as stunning in ID pictures as in real life. Jihoon shakes his head, still smiling a little, and pockets the wallet, making a mental note to give it back to Jun when he comes back. And to cool his future vanilla lattes a little before handing it to him.

**Author's Note:**

> ...this story might end up becoming longer than I anticipated. Oops.


End file.
